Category Archives: Twentieth century

Sunday Review: Last Call at Smokey Row by Pat Camalliere

Last Call at Smokey Row is a departure for Pat Camalliere, whose previous novels are part of a series of historical mysteries that take place in Lemont, IL. Although also set in Lemont, the latest novel is more what I’d classify as a contemporary woman’s novel set in the early 1980s. 

The main character and narrator, Jane Archer, is someone many people can relate to. Raised in a Catholic family, she pursued the goals she thought a good, responsible girl should: education, marriage, a suitable career for a woman—in her case, teaching high school biology. But at the age of 33, she finds herself a divorced ex-teacher, living alone for the first time in her life, working a dead-end job in a grocery store, and wondering if she has the stamina and motivation to figure out what to do next. 

Invited by a coworker who participates in a pool league, Jane visits a local tavern called Sami’s. There she meets a collection of people seemingly as adrift as she is: a divorced father being bled dry by his ex, a young woman with no apparent ambition, a traumatized Vietnam vet who rarely talks, another divorced man with the burden of caring for an agoraphobic and hostile mother, and an assortment of other drunks, gamblers, bullies, and weirdos.

Her newfound acquaintances force Jane to think deeply about questions such as, “Why are some people able to find purpose in life, and why do others remain lost or even mired in past heartache?” “Am I taking too long to move forward from my recent failures?” “Do I even know what I want?” Which of us has not asked ourselves questions like these?

In time, Jane builds relationships at Sami’s, some closer than others. With the help of one of her newfound friends, she slowly begins to find a new career path and perhaps even the hope of romance. 

With such a diverse mix of personalities, problems in the group are sure to bubble up. One conflict gets resolved in a way that I guarantee you won’t see coming. Through it all, Jane responds to the events around her by continuing to ask questions and to grow. Despite the large cast of characters, it is her story above all, and Camalliere brings it to a satisfying end. 

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Filed under contemporary fiction, Novels about women, Romance, Twentieth century

Sunday Review: The Stolen Queen by Fiona Davis

I love Fiona Davis’s novels. She’ll chose a famous New York building—the Dakota, Grand Central Terminal, Radio City Music Hall—and create a dramatic story about someone whose life causes her to spend time there in some capacity. Also, ever since I was a child, I have loved to read about ancient Egypt. Something about that long-ago culture never fails to fascinate. That’s why I was so eager to read Davis’s latest effort, a novel that takes place mostly at the Metropolitan Museum of Art but also, in part, in Egypt.

In 1978, 60-year-old Charlotte Cross is an associate curator at the Met in the weeks leading up to what would be the wildly popular exhibit of artifacts from King Tut’s tomb. As a young woman 42 years before, Charlotte had participated in an archaeological dig in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings. There, she made an unexpected and significant find, fell in love, and then suffered an unimaginable tragedy. She hasn’t been back to Egypt since, although she has been secretly doing research that she suspects will overthrow the popular view of Hathorkare, a queen who became pharaoh in her own right. (For fellow ancient Egypt buffs, Hathorkare is loosely based on Hatshepsut.)

The novel’s other protagonist is nineteen-year-old Annie Jenkins, a determined young woman struggling to provide for herself and an unstable mother. While running an errand to the Met for a neighbor, she makes an unsolicited but inspired suggestion that catches the attention of fashion mogul Diana Vreeland. The encounter results in Annie being hired to be Vreeland’s assistant in organizing the Met Gala that year.

The night of the Gala, an act of sabotage threatens an exhibit of irreplaceable costumes, and while everyone is distracted trying to stave off damage, a thief steals one of the museum’s priceless objects: a fragment of a lapis lazuli bust of an Egyptian queen. Charlotte and Annie chase the thief, endangering their lives, but after a struggle, he gets away with the artifact. Blamed unfairly for the sabotage, Annie loses her job.

To try to recover the stolen object, Charlotte travels to Egypt. She is accompanied by Annie, who books a ticket despite Charlotte’s dismissal of her offer of help. While there, the pair uncover more mysteries than they ever expected.

The flashback sections remind me a bit of Agatha Christie’s novels with archaeological settings. First, Davis provides vivid details of life on a dig. Second, when bad things happen, the characters are all too willing to attribute them to a pharaoh’s curse.

The characters of both Charlotte and Annie are strong. Both are plucky women, each trying to establish themselves but burdened by past baggage. Both are products of their respective time periods, each fighting in her own way to go beyond the limits of what woman are expected to be. The secondary character of Diana Vreeland, a historical person, adds spice to the more modern sections of the story.

The end ties up everything perhaps a little too neatly for my taste, but I know that many readers prefer unambiguously happy endings, so I won’t lower my 5-star rating because of that. In short, check out The Stolen Queen—and if you haven’t read Davis’s other novels, give them a try too.

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Filed under Ancient Egypt, Book Reviews, Historical fiction, mystery, New York, Twentieth century

Sunday Review: The Boy in the Rain by Stephanie Cowell

This lovely story tells the story of two men in Edwardian England, a dangerous time for gay relationships. The novel opens in 1903, just eight years after Oscar Wilde was sentenced to two years hard labor after being found guilty of “gross indecency.”

Robbie is a shy, orhpaned young man whose unsympathetic uncle has sent him into the country to study with a clergyman to prepare for university. While there, Robbie meets his neighbor—twenty-nine-year-old Anton, a man who has fled London society to escape a failed marriage and the death of his dreams of promoting a socialist government. Anton is doing what he can to help improve the lives of the poor in the village; Robbie is discovering that, instead of academics, he is drawn inexorably toward art. The two meet and fall in love, beginning a passionate but necessarily secret relationship.

A misunderstanding drives them apart, and Robbie goes to London to enroll in an art school. Tormented by his longing for Anton, he seeks comfort in casual encounters—a risky decision that nearly destroys him.

Eventually, the two reunite. Robbie begins to make a name for himself as a portraitist in London society. On weekends, he returns to the country to be with Anton, who has once again taken up the socialist cause. However, the more renown the two men achieve, the more danger they face from the possible exposure of their illegal relationship.

Both characters are complex, very real, and oh so human. I felt deeply for their dilemma. The portrayal of the time period is well researched and vivid. As the story progresses, I wanted so much for Robbie and Anton to find their happy ever after, yet the fear that such an outcome was impossible hangs over the story like the ever-descending pendulum in Poe’s famous story. To Cowell’s credit, I didn’t know how the novel would turn out until very, very close to the end.

Considering the rising discrimination against the LGBTQ+ community in today’s world, I think this book is an important read.

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Filed under Art, Book Reviews, England, fiction, Historical fiction, LGBTQ+, Romance, Twentieth century

Sunday Review: The Jøssing Affair by J..L. Oakley

If you enjoy reading WWII historical novels but are looking for a setting other than England or France, I have a recommendation for you! One arena of the war that has been overlooked far too long is occupied Norway. The Jøssing Affair by J. L. Oakley is an excellent contribution toward filling that gap. Germany invaded Norway in April 1940 and gained control of the country within two months. They remained in power until the capitulation of all German forces on May 8, 1945.

As did the residents of other occupied countries, many Norwegians took part in the underground resistance against the Nazis—in spite of horrifying reprisals. These resistance fighters adopted the name of Jøssing, and this novel tells their story by focusing on a fictional fighter named Tora Haugland. Associated with the “Shetland Bus,” which secretly transported arms and people between Norway and Britain, Haugland goes undercover pretending to be a deaf-mute working on a fishing boat and living in a tiny coastal village.

His work places him in constant danger, and the precariousness of his situation increases when he reluctantly falls in love with “the woman”—Anna Fromme, the German widow of an old friend, whom all the villagers ostracize because they believe she betrayed her Jøssing husband to the enemy. Anna is innocent but has other secrets that put her and her young daughter at risk.

Haugland’s network is under constant pressure from Norwegian collaborators who are helping the Gestapo hunt down resistance fighters. The most dangerous of these is Henry Oliver Rinnan, a real-life figure—and sadist—who led a group of informants and personally participated in the torture and murder of many captured Norwegians.

The novel is set during the latter part of the war and dramatically shows the harsh conditions under which Norwegians lived and their excruciating wait for an Allied victory and Norwegian liberation. The characters are well drawn (particularly Haugland and Anna), and the plot has plenty of action and suspense. An added bonus is the many descriptions of Norway and the fascinating tidbits about Norwegian culture and everyday life.

I recommend this book without reservation, and I look forward to reading the two other volumes in Oakley’s series on Norway’s experiences during and after the war.

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Filed under Book Reviews, fiction, Historical fiction, Twentieth century, World War II

Sunday Review: The Wildes by Louis Bayard

A friend I respect recommended this novel to me, so I bought it without knowing anything more than that it had something to do with Oscar Wilde and his family. I’m ashamed to admit that, despite being a literature major in college, I had no idea that Wilde had a wife and two sons (perhaps because I was educated at a very conservative college that would NEVER dream of teaching this particular writer).

As is appropriate for a novel about a playwright, this story is told in five acts. The first act recounts, from the point of view of Wilde’s wife Constance, a seemingly idyllic summer holiday in the country. Idyllic, that is, until Constance gradually realizes that the relationship between Oscar and one of their guests—Lord Alfred Douglas, son of the Marquess of Queensberry (the man who came up with the rules of boxing)—is more distressingly intimate than she’d suspected.

A brief entr’acte summarizes the scandal that ensued after Queensberry, offended by what he viewed as the corruption of his son, accused Wilde of sodomy. Wilde sued him for defamatory libel, but Queensberry was able to produce evidence that the charge was true. Wilde was convicted of gross indecency for homosexual acts and sentenced to two years hard labor. The punishment destroyed his health, and he died a few years later.

The remainder of the novel examines the effect of the scandal on his family. Act two focuses on Constance’s time in Italy, where she fled under an assumed name (Holland) to protect her boys from the scandal. She was suffering a debilitating illness that was poorly understood at the time and also died too young. Act three focuses on the eldest son, Cyril Holland, and his time as a sniper in World War I, a military assignment that led to his death. In this telling, he is determined to maintain a gruff, “manly” demeanor to differentiate himself from his father. Act four focuses on the younger son Vyvyan Holland in later life and a confrontation with the man whose relationship with Oscar Wilde destroyed the family. The fifth act is speculative, so I won’t describe it except to say that it moved me deeply.

I enjoyed the innovative structure and the opportunity to learn about this aspect of Oscar Wilde’s life. He was an original thinker and an astute observer of society, and I can only wonder what literary gems we lost because he was persecuted to an early death. I recommend the novel to lovers of historical fiction, English literature, and LGBTQ+ issues.

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Filed under 19th century life, Book Reviews, England, fiction, Historical fiction, LGBTQ+, Twentieth century, World War I

Sunday Review: Precipice by Robert Harris

I’ve read and enjoyed many historical novels by Robert Harris. This one, although based on a fascinating premise, did not quite live up to what I’ve come to expect from this author.

When the novel opens in July 1914, UK Prime Minister H.H. Asquith is involved in an affair with socialite Venetia Stanley, member of a wealthy aristocratic family. Stanley is 35 years younger than Asquith; at the beginning of the novel, she is 26 and he is 61. They see each other on social occasions, they walk on Hampstead Heath, he takes her on drives in the curtained back seat of his Rolls Royce, and they send each other passionate letters.

Asquith had long had a penchant for the company of attractive young women, but one thing that makes his relationship with Stanley different from the others is the extent to which he relies on her intelligence and uses her as a sounding board and sometime political advisor. The other difference, of course, is that World War I breaks out in August 1914, a conflict of such complexity and carnage that Asquith faces unprecedented political challenges. As a result, he often writes Stanley three letters a day, discusses confidential cabinet discussions, and even sends her the originals of top secret communiqués.

The novel covers the relatively short time of a single year, but a lot happens. This includes a tragic accident among Stanley’s social set, the tense events leading to the outbreak of war, the planning for the ultimately disastrous Gallipoli campaign, an insider’s look into political infighting among British cabinet members, and an investigation launched by Scotland Yard into who’s responsible for top secret telegrams being found discarded across southern England.

The characters are well developed, and I particularly liked the main female character, a clever, insightful woman bored with her shallow social scene and searching for something more meaningful in her life.

What eventually cast a slight pall of my enjoyment of the book was Asquith himself. His love for Venetia Stanley was obsessive, self-indulgent, and reckless, and his letters to her (quoted from the originals) became tedious and whiny. As a result, I was not sorry for the book to end.

Despite that, I still rate the novel a four-star read. If you can get the audiobook book, give it a listen. The incomparable Samuel West is the narrator.

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Filed under Book Reviews, England, fiction, Historical fiction, Novels about women, Twentieth century, World War I

Sunday Review: The Porcelain Moon by Janie Chang

Did you know that more than 100,000 thousand Chinese laborers worked in Europe doing support labor during World War I? Neither did I until reading Janie Chang’s historical novel The Porcelain Moon.

The novel tells a dual story, both tales set during WWI. Pauline is an illegitimate Chinese girl, being raised by an uncle who runs a shop that sells Chinese porcelain and artifacts in Paris. Her parents are both dead, and no one in the family but her uncle and his son Theo cares about what happens to her. Pauline is approaching the age when she will be forced back to Shanghai for a marriage arranged by Uncle’s wife, who despises her and has no reason to make a good match. Theo is also facing a dreaded arranged marriage, a prospect he delays by taking a job as an interpreter for the Chinese Labour Corps.

The other plot line concerns Camille Roussel, a young woman trapped in an abusive marriage to a man who is bent on making money from the war by any means available. Camille lives in Noyelles-sur-Mer, near one of the labor camps. When Pauline comes searching for her cousin, hoping Theo will help her avoid being sent back to China, the two young women meet and discover they share a bond that neither has suspected. A bond that involves a dangerous secret.

The spotlight this novel shines on the overlooked contribution Chinese laborers made to the war makes it worth reading. Unfortunately, I didn’t think the intertwined story of the two young women was really a strong enough vehicle for this important subject matter. Honestly, for the first half of the book, I had trouble keeping the two storylines separate in my mind. You’d think that having one character be French and the other Chinese would be enough of a distinction, but for much of the novel, both are victims trapped in difficult circumstances, so the two character arcs are too much the same. Each character also has a love story, neither of which I found compelling. And the ending was just a bit too easy for my taste.

I wish I could recommend this more strongly. I loved The Phoenix Crown, Chang’s collaboration with Kate Quinn and was eager to see what she’d produce on her own.

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Filed under Book Reviews, France, Historical fiction, Paris, Romance, Twentieth century, World War I

Sunday Review: Two Novels about 20th Century Icons

I recently read two historical novels about women who achieved great fame during the mid-twentieth century. Both books are based on research but are essentially fictional retellings of the historical personages’ life.

The first was Maria by Michelle Moran, a novel about Maria Von Trapp. Moran attempts to debunk some of the misconceptions about the characters of Maria and the captain and also to reveal a more accurate story about the family and their escape from Austria. The story is framed by Maria’s attempt to have inaccuracies in the musical The Sound of Music changed before its premiere, but anyone who knows show business will know that she’s waited too long. Opening is just a couple of weeks away. To appease her, Oscar Hammerstein sends his assistant Frances (a fictional character) to listen to Maria’s concerns and take notes—notes that almost everyone but Maria realizes will never be used.

Moran knows how to tell a well-paced story with engaging characters. I enjoyed learning about what was true and untrue in the beloved musical, as well as finding out more about what happened to the Trapp family afterward. Another unexpected subplot concerned the decline of Hammerstein’s health: The Sound of Music was his last show; he died very shortly afterward. I recommend the book to anyone who’s loved the musical and wants to know more.

The second novel was Can’t We Be Friends? by a team of authors: Denny S. Bryce and Eliza Knight. Also based on research, it’s an imagined account of the extraordinary friendship between jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald and actor Marilyn Monroe. The novel alternates between the perspectives of the two main characters.

I was surprised to learn how much the two women had in common and how very supportive of each other they were during their separate struggles with an entertainment industry that wants to control women as commodities. As anyone who’s paid attention to Taylor Swift knows, this is an ongoing struggle today.

Because Fitzgerald and Monroe’s friendship was largely private, I think these authors had to invent more of the novel’s events than did Moran in Maria. For example, they had to decide how to portray Monroe’s marriages to Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller, both of which have been subjects of vastly differing interpretations. Having it told by two authors made each character’s voice distinct, and the novel engaged me and gave me a deeper understanding of both women. I particularly found it an extremely emotional experience to read about Monroe’s tragic downward spiral in the last years of her life. I recommend this novel to people interested in the back story of famous icons of pop culture, especially women who tried to fight the patriarchal system.

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Filed under Book Reviews, contemporary fiction, Historical fiction, Twentieth century

Sunday Review: The Orchid Hour by Nancy Bilyeau

This intriguing novel is set in New York City in 1923. Prohibition has been the law of the land for just a few years—but long enough for mobsters to have established black market supply lines and set up speakeasies throughout the city.

The main character, Zia De Luca, is not the kind of person you’d expect to be mixed up in this kind of racket. She’s a Sicilian immigrant, yes, but she’s also a war widow who has a young son and works in a branch of the New York Public Library on weekdays and in her father-in-law’s cheese shop on weekends. On the other hand, her favorite cousin Salvatore has shady connections and a questionable reputation, so she’s closer to the Cosa Nostra than the proverbial six degrees of separation.

Then three things happen to catapult Zia into her cousin’s shadow world. First, a quiet patron who’s asked her to translate a Sicilian play is shot to death outside the library; the police question Zia about their conversations. Second, she’s laid off from her job because of budget cuts, leaving her wondering how to realize her dream of saving for her son to attend college someday. Finally, her father-in-law is murdered in his store by a man masquerading as a reporter who wants Zia’s story.

Realizing that the police do not see a connection between the two crimes—and observing that they show little interest in investigating either—Zia decides to go undercover working in her cousin’s new speakeasy, an elegant nightclub named the Orchid Hour, appropriately hidden behind a florist’s shop.

The settings of the book—from the speakeasies to the neighborhood of Little Italy—are filled with vivid sensory details. (You can’t read this book without craving authentic Italian lasagna or Lindy’s famous cheesecake, or perhaps wishing you could go to the Orchid Hour to hear the trio of Russian emigré muscians!) The story abounds with colorful characters: from Salvatore Lucania (later to go down in history as Lucky Luciano), to the fictional actor David DaCosta (rival to the great Valentino), the beautiful half-Sicilian Ziegfeld Follies performer Julia Morel, the intrepid and determined Zia herself, and even a cameo by J. Edgar Hoover.

The plot has enough twists and turns to satisfy any devotee of historical mysteries. I recommend the novel and rate it five stars.

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Filed under American history, Book Reviews, Historical fiction, Twentieth century

Sunday Review: The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai

I really didn’t know what to expect when I started The Great Believers, but now I think it’s the best book I’ve read so far this year.

It’s a duel timeline novel. One story, set from 1985 to 1990, chronicles the tragic losses that occur when the AIDS epidemic reaches Chicago and begins to spread among the LGBTQ committee there—among the first generation to really experience the exuberance of living fully out and celebrating gay pride. The point of view character for this timeline is Yale Tishman, a thoughtful, quiet man who is trying to build a world-class gallery at Northwestern University and is in a relationship with Charlie Keen, who publishers a newspaper focused on LGBTQ issues. Early in this narrative, one of their best friends—Nico Marcus—dies of AIDS, forcing them all to face what is happening and make hard choices (or not, depending on the person). Yale remains close with Nico’s younger sister Fiona, who becomes a fierce advocate for all of Nico’s friends, especially those who find themselves navigating the isolating journey that is AIDS.

The second timeline features Fiona in 2015. She’s a divorced women, suffering from PTSD because of all the losses she endured in the 1980s, running a charity thrift store whose proceeds go toward AIDS work, and struggling with guilt because she’s estranged from her daughter, Claire, who not only rejected Fiona but also disappeared into a cult. Someone sends Fiona a video of a young woman in Paris who might be Claire, so Fiona takes off to that city to try to track her down. While there, she stays with a gay photographer friend she’s known since the 1980s, a man who is about to open a major exhibition that will feature some of the images from the past.

The book is warm, evocative, devastating, beautiful, and heartbreaking. Each character is so vividly drawn. I loved both Yale and Fiona, and I felt so deeply for their situations. Even though the author is much younger than the people she’s writing about, this all felt very authentic to me. Because I lived in Chicago during the 1980s and worked with people who did some AIDS awareness projects at our company, I could remember a bit of what that period was like, although my experience of it was definitely far removed from what the characters of this book went through. This novel made me wish I’d forced myself to know more, care more, and do more about the crisis.

I honestly want to run around telling everyone I know to read this novel. It affected me that deeply.

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Filed under American history, Book Reviews, contemporary fiction, fiction, France, Historical fiction, Paris, Twentieth century